Of Swords and Petals
by Lightning Eterna
Summary: Just what do a certain swordsman and archaeologist think of each other over the days they travel across the vast world of the Grand Line? Let's see the answer for ourselves... RoZo twoshot
1. Part I Confusions of a Swordsman

**Yosh! My first OP fanfic. It's a bit of an introspective RoZo twoshot. Part I belongs to Zoro. I hope you enjoy! ^^**

**Part I ~ Confusions of a Swordsman**

'Pirate Hunter' Roronoa Zoro, a.k.a. the resident swordsman of the Straw Hat Pirate Crew, was rather irritated. Now, while this frustration was not rare due to the swordsman's awfully immense short-temperedness, for some reason it was knawing at him in this instant even more so than usual.

His usual annoyances included but were not limited to: the romantic prattle of the aho-lovelin cook, the greedy demands of the bitchy money-obsessed navigator as well as the idiotic antics of his ship's captain, doctor and sniper.

But what was prodding at him this very moment was something, or rather someone, entirely different. _That woman…_

For some reason, the moss-headed man found the crew's newest member, that archaeologist woman, on his mind nonstop. It pissed him off to the ends of hell and back; that he simply could not refrain from thinking of her.

In his morning meditation he thought about this long and hard. Racking his brain, he could find no explanation for his abnormal thoughts and emotions. Thoroughly unsatisfied with the lack of solutions his mind was offering up, he came to the simple conclusion that it was his utter _abhorrence_ for the woman, Nico Robin, which was causing his irregular behavior. The only way to avoid such distraction? Avoid her.

And that was exactly what Zoro did. Or at least, attempted to do. Somehow fate (or perhaps even God??) found ways to leave him in the company of said woman.

It was not merely the fact that she had only quite recently been their enemy, but the fact that somehow Zoro felt she would leave at a moment's notice. That she could just abandon them as quickly as she so insistently requested to join. He just absolutely could not condone that! Luffy, who was literally the one who held them all together, had so much trust in her! If she were to just use them and throw them aside, the swordsman would not let his anger and disdain be concealed.

From this standpoint, it appalled the young man that the rest of the crew had so easily fallen for _her _tricks. The love-cook flipped head-over-heels screaming "Mellorine!" like a lovesick little boy upon sight of the rather attractive woman (not that _that _would matter to Zoro); the stupid, miserly woman caved like a child for candy when the oh-so-precious jewels _á la Crocodile_ were dangled in front of her eyes; and last but not least, his own ever-trusting captain was mesmerized by her contribution to his as well as Chopper and Usopp's childish little games, via Devil Fruit power. It was unnerving how none of them could see in her what he did: Just another person who would walk out of their lives and disappear in the end.

And yet, something made him want to see past all of that.

When he saw her being electrocuted in front of his eyes, a new rage built up inside of him. It was low, it was sick; to see her attacked in such a way.

'_It was only because that lightning bastard was scum enough to attack a woman, that's all. And she is our nakama, after all,' _was what he decidedly told himself later on as he guzzled down mug after mug of booze at the Skypeian-Shandian celebration.

Yet still his strange reactions followed him like the plague. Moments after losing the rather bothersome "Dharma-san has fallen" event during the even more troublesome Davy Back Fight, Zoro began feeling somewhat regretful that his actions had caused the raven-haired archaeologist to remain within in the ranks of that Fox-dumbass's petty crew. (Aside from the fact that they lost Chopper again as well.)

However, it seemed her passiveness at having to leave them in the first place was prodding at him yet again. Did she trust that they would be able retrieve her, or did she just not care? It again brought Zoro back to his earlier concerns. Well that, and the fact that he could not stand her wearing that retarded-looking mask. (He thanked whatever entity existed that Luffy was never one to make his entire crew wear his same trademark straw hat.)

This was then to be accompanied by his relief that Luffy had finally kicked the Fox-asshat's ass. This time he convinced himself it was due to the sheer horror of having to become an underling of said Fox-bastard (who looked nothing like a fox, anyhow).

But then, his sense of security towards all this was eradicated. His fears, or perhaps worries, were at last realized. She left them, just as he had expected her to. She let them be upheld for her crimes just as easily.

Zoro kept telling himself that he had expected it to happen; that he had known she would have done this sooner or later. But still, something in him blazed. The feeling of betrayal, as he knew would temporarily flame over. But this – it was somehow much more intense than he had thought it would be.

Something inside him, something deeper than the begrudged feelings for his captain and the rest of his nakama, shattered. Maybe it was his own personal trust for her. A glimmer of hope that she might have been willing to be a part of them, their somewhat mishap family. Was that it? In the end, she was gone and Zoro just could not shake the feeling that her deserting of them was just all too familiar.

* * *

Several months later, long after she had proven her loyalty and returned, Zoro would try his best to keep from contemplating this awkward and slightly upsetting past. Drifting asleep aboard the Thousand Sunny, he tried his best to fend away all memories and uncomfortable thoughts in relation to her. That way, it would be a lot easier for him. That way, he didn't have to worry about it again. He had too much to think about anyways.

_

* * *

_

A sunny day on the Grand Line, the Thousand Sunny-gou grasping its true aura…

"Excuse me Mr. Swordsman. Mr. Cook has called us in for lunch. Are you coming?" the historian asked politely, after having awoken the swordsman from his afternoon nap.

"Mmm…what? Yeah, tell his majesty of Retardia I'm coming," he grumbled as he began to lift himself from sleeping position.

Robin giggled, still rather amused by the ongoing feud between swordsman and cook. "All right, I'll make sure he knows."

"OI, ROBIN-CHWAN!!!!!" came the enamored cry of the one and only love-cook himself.

"We're coming, Mr. Cook!" she replied, still letting her entertainment show. Her laughter ceased, but she still held a smile on her lips.

Zoro found himself staring after her a bit contently. He did so until his focus was clouded by the presence of a certain blond-haired cook, glaring at him.

"Oi, marimo-head, you weren't thinking of going after Robin-chwan, were you?" he asked threateningly.

With that, the spark of rivalry was lit.

"Like hell, dartboard! I'm nothing like you!"

"DARTBOARD??!! Why you son of a…!"

And thus, the classic argument began. But as Zoro bickered away with the ero-cook, he now found himself trying to bury at the back of his mind the thought that this time, just maybe the aho-lovelin may have been right…

**…**

**That last part was unbelievably fun to write. Anyhow, if any of you fellow RoZo fans stop by, I hope you enjoy and feedback is much appreciated.**

**Part II shall be in as soon as possible. This time, it'll be Robin's thoughts on a certain marimo. ^.~ **


	2. Part II Musings of an Archaeologist

**Alas, now it shall be complete. Part II of 'Of Swords and Petals'. Hope you enjoy! **

**Thanks to Eve, burichifan, and existence555 for reviewing the first chapter. I'm glad **_**someone**_** could enjoy this. -ahem- ^.~**

**Part II ~ Musings of an Archaeologist**

'_I should just end,' _was her first thought. There truly was nothing left for her to call 'home', even if just for pretend. With Crocodile's defeat came the end of all hope for her dream.

It was ironic. Once the thing that threatened her was out of the way, she no longer had any reason to live.

She rested her head back against the sandy dunes. Thinking back, maybe there was somewhere for her to go. Albeit, it was risky, but she could make it work.

* * *

Stowing away had been no challenge. She slipped onboard the ship completely unnoticed. Now came winning them over. This had been quite an effortless task as well, for the most part. Analyzing their basic habits, she baited each with the precise interest/desire/BS pastime that applied to them. And just as quickly, they received her; she was a part of them.

* * *

She sat back, relaxing for the first time in perhaps years. She happily indulged in the volume propped up against her legs, absorbing the history of the legendary 'Rainbow Mist' with ease.

Her new life was quite enjoyable. No longer was she the dreaded Miss All-Sunday. Here, she could just be Nico Robin, archaeologist/historian of the Straw Hat Pirates. She could observe her new companions without the threat of being maimed or murdered. They really did seem to accept her for who she was and not what she had been.

Hearing a grunt, she looked up from the words of some Commodore Lapanui. Her eyes met the sight of her latest intrigue. Yawning and groaning as he awoke from his drowsy state was he. _Mr. Swordsman… _She gave a silent laugh.

He was an amusement. Simple as that. When everyone else in the crew welcomed her with open arms, he still retained a skeptical eye towards her. Roronoa Zoro definitely was not your average nineteen-year-old. His skepticism seemed to make him pay extra attention of her. It entertained her so much, she sometimes plotted to perhaps tease him a bit and give an accusation of a crush; however, she thought better of this. An ever-watchful Mr. Swordsman was better than an annoyed one.

She often felt a bit sorry for him. His for his distrust might not have been so far from the truth. Should her painful past resurface, she would be forced to leave this happy little family of hers behind.

However, for the time being, she found solace and hope from the presence of these people.

Already, she had located the key to finding her dream. Perhaps her search for the _True History_ would not prove to be any longer. Maybe she would finally have her answers!

However, to get to them, she first needed to acquire an escape for herself and the rest of the crew from the near-doomed Sky Island.

Doomed. Somewhat like herself.

Yet it seemed in this instance, her trickery would again turn against her. She knew this as the misguided megalomaniac sent thousands of volts flying to and fro her body, depriving her of all feeling and self-control.

This helplessness. It had her so tightly within its grasp. Why could she not let it go? She wanted it gone… she wanted… What did she want? …so much that she just could not have… _'It's all out of my reach.'_ She was falling, again, both literally and figuratively, embracing the hopeless spirit she was so familiar with.

She would have given it all up; just letting herself stay on the ground. She would have just fallen and let her dreams remain in her sleep. She would have, had she not been caught. This feeling…the utter sensation…even just being held like this, she felt immensely empowered. Even without a muscle of movement, she still had the gut feeling she could be capable of anything.

"_She's a woman!" _Robin could make out this infuriated statement faintly. Mr. Swordsman? Had he really been the one to say it? Or was she again imagining things?

Later on, when it was all over with, she knew she could not deny it had been him. But what did it mean? She thought over the moment, replaying it in her head over and over. He had caught her; he had refused to let her fall. Did he – did Zoro? – accept her now? Was there any confidence for her in him now? Whatever it was, she felt intent to maintain it, let it flower. If he possessed even a lick of faith in her, she felt – she knew – it was necessary to keep it alive.

Even if, in the end, she did have to let it go. For the time-being, she just wanted _that _from him. _It_ was all that mattered.

She calmed down afterward, to again resume in her easing off and observation. She had again sat back bemused, watching the swordsman's uncomfortable motions after absorbing the fact that he had caused them the loss of yet another round of Davy Back Fight. He kept glancing back at her with irritated glares as they awaited the result of their captain's final challenge.

Needless to say, in a matter of minutes, she and the reindeer were back among their loving nakama. Quite frankly, where they belonged. She still sensed hostility from the swordsman. Even with her feigned nonchalance, she really hoped this time around for it to blow over; his trust that had been such a trial to attain…she silently wished for it to continue on.

Continue it did, for what she could tell. But what occurred next was something she could never have expected.

To think hers would be the only memory left intact the night the rest of the crew's would be stolen. To be the only one to recall what adventures they had had when everyone else forgot. She kept her assumed composure and guided the rest of them along the path to recollecting their precious moments.

Something egged her on to wonder why she was doing such deed. _"They're our nakama. We have to get it back for them,"_ would be the captain's rarely intelligent reply. But she knew somewhere she was only doing this for herself. And maybe, just one other…

She contemplated the possibility that perhaps had the swordsman not dozed off during his night watch duty, he could have been alongside her. Or had he been alert, they could have avoided the situation altogether. Oh well, either way he would be a walking source of joviality for her once memories were reinstalled in their rightful place.

However, it seemed her unhappiness still haunted her like an unlucky star. The efforts to regain the crew's memories led to the complicated, if temporary, loss of identity for all of them. Even she, for just that moment would not remember the misfortune that had so often befallen her. Maybe in this instant, triggered by her physical memory, she could have a taste of the self-repose she had for so long relished.

No such thing. In a moment of the captain's useful but rather tactless bumbling, she again recalled everything. Even seeing the imprints of reminiscence of every one of her nakama. Specifically that of a certain swordsman. And through this, she was only further reminded of her persistent misery.

The sight which had stopped all thought for her had been the image of that girl. She had noticed the way the swordsman reacted to seeing the illusion of this girl, one that probably meant so much to him. The one who held the white-hilted sword which was now perhaps his greatest treasure. She was his past. She was the reason for his dream; the motivation that allowed him to be standing here and now. Robin just knew this to be so.

But perhaps there was no longer any point in being disappointed. Sealing her fate, she went ahead and turned her back on them, just as she had planned. The guilt, it hurt; it being greater a pain that any she had endured before. To have just let them go…

But most of all, almost at the heart of her suffrage, alongside her unhappy past, was the knowledge of her hugest betrayal. _To him…_

She did not predict her disdain of losing his belief in her would be so relentlessly unbearable. To see his menacing gaze; angered, distrustful, and this time somewhat insulted, was more than she had realized she could take. What made it all worse was knowing it was her fault.

If she could have the chance at life even one more time, she would accept it for the sake of righting this wrong.

* * *

Maybe the persistent aura he drew up was faltering a bit, or somehow the swordsman was finding it in himself to let her know that she was forgiven. In his movements, words, even reactions, he seemed to be softening towards her.

Now, just maybe, her real wish was coming true.

* * *

"Robin-chwan, please excuse my asking you of this dreadful favor, but would you be so kind as to fetch the marimo? With his habits, he's probably snoozing the day away and I haven't any time to deal with his shit. So, I would greatly appreciate – "

"That's fine, Mr. Cook. I'll get him." Setting down her book, the archaeologist rose to release the swordsman from his slumber.

Approaching his sleeping form, she nearly laughed aloud at how peaceful he looked. With his often intimidating stature which led to his very many violent attacks and insults, one would not think him capable to appear in such a manner.

Waking him up was even funnier, she would have had to say. His tired grumblings made for a lovely contradiction to his usually perfect alertness.

She could still feel his eyes upon her as she turned and sauntered away. Again was that bright feeling that enabled her hope for his reacceptance to reform.

_"Oreja Fleur,"_ she whispered. The extra unattached appendage formed in an area undetectable by the currently bickering cook and swordsman. It was rather enjoyable for her to listen to their hilarious altercation.

In her pilfered attendance of their unorthodox battle, she was greatly caught off guard by the beginning statement. The quip had obviously been meant as harassment and embarrassment for the swordsman. However, the latter reaction only seemed to apply to her.

"You gonna hypnotize me with that swirly eyebrow of yours, ero-cook??" challenged one.

"You gonna poison me with your toxic hair, shitty marimo??" threw the other.

Robin smiled. Those were definitely new. But what she was more focused on was the one thing; hoping that somehow the cook's careless comment could possibly be of some truth…

**…**

**Yosha! It's over… *cries* But, I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I did writing it. I'd say for my first OP fic, hell, my first RoZo, it went pretty well. XD But that, I believe, is up to you guys. ^^ **

**EDIT: I checked out the real name of Robin's techinque. Apparently it's "Oreja Fleur" (Ear Flower; she's quite literal XD). I have thus corrected it. **


End file.
